The Choice
by Bookworm85
Summary: The Joker captures Nightwing, Red Hood, Red Robin, and Robin and forces Batman to make a terrible choice. Can Batman find a way to save his sons, or will the Joker succeed in breaking the Dark Knight?
1. Chapter 1

Summary- The Joker captures Nightwing, Red Hood, Red Robin, and Robin and forces Batman to make a terrible choice. Can Batman find a way to save his sons, or will the Joker succeed in breaking the Dark Knight?

Rated T for violence, language, and possible character death.

Dick is 24, Jason is 20, Tim is 16, and Damian is 10.

This story will have three chapters.

The Choice

Nightwing was already halfway to Gotham when he got the call from Batman. A nagging feeling had been haunting him all day and as soon as he had gotten off work, he changed from his cop uniform into his superhero uniform and headed to Gotham on his motorcycle.

"Nightwing. There's been a Arkham breakout, led by the Joker. Two Face, Penguin, Poison Ivy, Scarecrow, and Harley Quinn have all escaped. We need all hands on deck," Batman said.

"I'm on my way. Have you gotten in touch with Red Hood?"

"Negative. He's not answering my calls."

"I think I have a way to get in touch with him. I'll rendezvous with you later. Nightwing out."

It was only another five minutes until Nightwing reached the outskirts of Gotham. He headed towards one of Jason's safehouses. Jason wouldn't be pleased to see him, but Nightwing went anyway. Jason would have heard of the breakout by now. It was important the someone in the family found Jason before the young man found the Joker. Jason's hatred of the Joker would make him take unnecessary risks. Dick didn't want to lose his brother again.

He found Red Hood outside the safehouse, as if waiting for him. "Didn't know we were meeting up tonight, 'Wing," he said casually. "You know, these houses are supposed to be secret."

"I try to keep an eye on my little brothers," Nightwing responded.

"I haven't been little in a while now, Shorty. I suppose you're here to tell me to stay away from Joker?"

"If I did, would you listen?"

"Hell, no."

"We need your help. There's some serious villains out there tonight, and some of them are known for recruiting henchmen within a short time of their escape. We need to stop this before it gets out of hand and civilians get hurt. Are you in?"

"If I work with you, I'll have to do it your way," Red Hood said rudely. "No guns, no killing?"

"Yes to the second. If I can trust you to only do non-fatal shots, you can use your guns, if you stay away from Batman."

"Aw, thank you," Red Hood said sarcastically. "Glad to have your permission. Tell me why I don't just walk off and take care of this by myself?"

"I told you, we need you. A coordinated attack will take them down faster. And the faster we return them to Arkham, the fewer innocent people will get hurt."

"Fine. But I refuse to partner with the Replacement."

Nightwing rolled his eyes. Usually he would take this opportunity to defend Tim, but he knew Jason was just blowing off steam. He didn't like working with the family and only did it in extreme circumstances. An Arkham breakout fell in that category."Will you partner with me?"

"Sure. I guess you're not as annoying as the others. Most of the time."

"Thanks for the compliment." Nightwing radioed Batman. "I found Hood. We'll patrol the West side."

"Understood. Red Robin, Robin, and I will get the East side. Keep in radio contact and ask for backup if needed."

"We won't need your backup," Red Hood said under his breath. He didn't have a communicator. He had destroyed the last few that were offered to him. He didn't like his family keeping tabs on him. "So, are we going to chat all night, or can we go beat up some bad guys?"

They found Mr. Freeze first. He was skulking around an alley which made Nightwing nervous for a trap. Freeze usually headed straight for something he could use as a lab. Nightwing gestured to Red Hood to go around and surprise Freeze from behind. He took his bolas and prepared to tie the villain up. He waited to see if Freeze was going to lead them to a hideout, but when Freeze just walked back and forth, Nightwing threw the bolas. The ropes wrapped around Freeze's legs, knocking the man off balance. Mr. Freeze went down.

"Well, that wasn't so hard," Red Hood said, appearing behind the villain. "Tell me again why you needed my help so much?"

Penguin and ten of his men took that opportunity to show up. "Guess that answers your question, Hood," Nightwing said.

* * *

On the other side of town, Batman and the two younger heroes had their hands full with Two Face and a dozen men, all of them armed with machine guns. "Spread out," Batman ordered a moment before Two Face ordered, "Shoot them!" Red Robin moved to the right, Robin to the left. Batman charged straight forward, knocking two men down before they could get off even a single shot. Red Robin extended his bo staff and alternated between sweeping the men's legs out from under them and delivering quick blows to their heads. Robin relied on hand to hand combat since his sword was not allowed on patrol. The lack of his favorite weapon didn't hinder him. He easily dodged bullets and went for the pressure points of his victims.

Batman maneuvered himself behind the gang. Now the three vigilantes had the thugs surrounded. Already five of men were down. Batman trusted that his sons were capable of handling themselves in a fight, but whenever he was with them in a skirmish, part of his attention was on them. He saw one of the thugs, who had been down a moment before, gain his feet at aim his gun at the back of Red Robin's head. Before he could shout a warning, Robin threw a birdarang, which clipped the wrist of the man, causing him to drop his gun with a howl of pain. Red Robin took out the man in front of him and then gave Robin a quick nod of thanks.

Just then, there was a mad cackle that caused Batman's blood to freeze. He found the figure, clothed in a purple suit, standing at the end of the alley. Batman surveyed the scene behind him. Six of the men were unconscious, another four were groaning on the ground and didn't look like they had any fight left in them. Red Robin and Robin could take down the remaining three on their own, and the boys had proved that they didn't let their animosity at home interfere with the job. "I'm going after the Joker," he called to the Robins.

"We've got it here," Red Robin called back as Batman ran after the Joker. He smacked a gun from the hands of one of the men, which left all three criminals still standing unarmed. "You want to surrender?" he offered to the men.

"They don't want to do that," said a feminine voice from behind Red Robin. Before he could turn, a thick vine wrapped around him, pinning his arms to his torso. The vine lifted him several feet in the air and began to squeeze. His staff fell to the ground. Robin growled and rushed Poison Ivy, birdarang in hand.

"Robin, don't!" Red Robin managed to get out before Ivy blew some kind of powder in the boy's face. Robin blinked a few times and coughed. "Rebreather!" the teen reminded his younger brother.

Robin got the rebreather on, but Tim worried that he hadn't done it fast enough. He pulled out a birdarang of his own and began sawing at the vine that was holding him prisoner. Robin threw his projectile at the vine. It sliced through the plant. Ivy screamed and more vines attacked the younger hero. Red Robin landed on his feet and was immediately confronted by the men who had taken the opportunity to retrieve their guns during the distraction. He reached for his staff, but froze when he heard a cry from Robin. He looked over at his brother to see that the vines had wrapped around his chest and neck.

"Surrender, or I'll break his neck," Ivy said with a smile. Red Robin evaluated his options. He didn't have many. The men seemed eager to pay him back for the injuries he had caused them and Ivy didn't look like she was bluffing. He raised his hands in surrender. One of the men stepped forward and used the butt of his gun to knock the teen unconscious.

* * *

Red Hood moved forward to fight without a second thought. Nightwing rolled his eyes at his impulsive younger brother and then moved to cover his back. Penguin stayed to the rear, letting his thugs do the work. He didn't just escape Arkham to be sent immediately back. The men were careful to not get in each other's way. Nightwing wondered how Penguin had managed to get qualified henchmen on short notice and then worried that the breakout had been in the works for a long time. The better the villains planned, the more he would have to up his game.

Red Hood was shooting at kneecaps and shoulders, keeping his promise of non-lethal attacks. Nightwing wished that Red Hood would team up with him more often. He missed his younger brother and knew that the isolation wasn't good for the other man. A ricochet make Nightwing refocus on the fight. He knew how to dodge bullets, but the cramped quarters made it difficult to maneuver. The only blessing this alley offered was the fire escape, which allowed Nightwing to claim the high ground and attack from above. That also split the criminal's attention. They had to look around and up to keep both foes in sight.

The fight was wearing Nightwing down, but he could see that he and Red Hood were winning. The number of unconscious bad guys on the ground kept growing. When the last criminal was down, Nightwing remembered Penguin. The short man had seemingly disappeared. The hero thought back to when he had last seen Cobblepot, but was hard pressed for an answer. He chided himself at letting the other man get away.

"Nightwing!" Red Hood called the warning a second too slow. Nightwing turned and saw that Mr. Freeze had been defrosted, courtesy of Penguin. Nightwing wished he had a moment to appreciate the irony of a penguin getting rid of ice, but Mr. Freeze had already used his freeze ray to cement the hero's feet to the ground. Nightwing saw Red Hood go for the freeze ray and barely dodge another attack. The elder hero opened his utility belt to grab for something that would free him from his icy restraints.

Another blast of cold enveloped him from the shoulders down, and his hand was still too far from the laser to do any good. He was helpless to aid Red Hood, who was busy avoiding both bullets and blasts of ice. Nightwing watched as they fought, looking for advice to shout to the other hero, but Hood was doing well on his own. Red Hood took down Penguin with a bullet to the shoulder and kicked the criminal's umbrella away. He spun around to deal with Mr. Freeze, but the other villain was too quick. Red Hood was completely encased in ice. Then Freeze walked leisurely toward Nightwing. "You failed," the man said.

"What do you want? This isn't your style. How is this going to help your wife?" Nightwing asked.

"My benefactor has offered me a great deal of money for your capture. That money will help fund my research to help my wife. Plus, I have a guarantee that Gotham's heroes will not stop me from doing my work."

Penguin stepped forward with a cell phone pressed to his ear. "Yeah, Joker, it's done," he said and hung up the phone. Then he smirked at Nightwing. "Your night's about to get worse."

Nightwing didn't doubt it.

* * *

It had been two hours since the breakout, plenty of time for the Joker to have set one of his plans in motion. Batman was on alert for traps as he followed the madman. The Joker led him on a chase through alleys and abandoned buildings. Several times Batman worried that he had lost track of his prey, only for the clown to appear a minute later.

Just when Batman was thinking of calling for reinforcements, he turned the corner and was confronted with the sight of a young woman tied to a chair with a bomb strapped to her. The prisoner was in a business suit and heels, and a gag was in her mouth. She looked terrified. Harley Quinn stood next to her, mallet dangling carelessly from her hand.

"Guess you found me, Batsy!" the Joker cried with glee as he stepped out of the shadows and moved towards his girlfriend. "Now it's your turn to hide."

"We're not playing Hide and Seek," Batman said. "Let the woman go."

"You're right. There is a bigger game in the works tonight. But I think I'll hold on to her a little while longer."

"What do you want?"

"Shouldn't you be asking me how I escaped from Arkham?"

"How did you escape?" Batman asked. The answer wasn't important. Once he alerted the Arkham guards to fix the security breach, it wouldn't take long for the clown to find another hole in the system. Batman considered the idea that Joker was stalling.

"Not gonna tell," Joker said smugly. "Can't reveal all my tricks, now can I?" Batman tensed at a buzzing sound, but the Joker just removed his cell from his pocket. "Well? Yes, I see. Good." He hung up. "Nothing to worry about," he told the hero.

"One way or another, you'll end up back at the asylum. It doesn't matter what you have planned."

Harley giggled. "He has no idea what is in store for him."

The phone buzzed again. Joker answered it. "Yeah? Both of them? Good."

Batman felt dread settle in his stomach. He touched his comm. "Nightwing, report." No response. "Robin? Red Robin? Come in." He wished that Jason would have taken a comm tonight so he could try him as well, but Batman had a feeling it wouldn't have made a difference. He couldn't get a hold of any of his sons.

Joker cackled gleefully. "Oh, now he sees. Well the game is set up and waiting for you. I just need a few minutes to get into position. And that will give you time to disarm this bomb, here. I'll see you soon." Joker said an address and then he and Harley ran off. Batman wanted to follow them immediately, but there was a civilian in danger.

He approached the woman cautiously, on alert for booby traps. There weren't any. The woman was still crying softly. "You'll be fine," he told her. "I am going to get you out of here."

Batman deactivated the bomb and untied the hostage. "How did he capture you?" he asked as soon as the woman pulled the gag from her mouth.

"It was Harley. I was walking and she hit me with her hammer. When I regained consciousness, I was tied to that chair." The woman wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

"Did she or Joker say anything about their plans?"

The woman nodded. "Joker said he was going to hurt you badly, but it was going to be your fault."

"You need to get home quickly," Batman told her. The woman retrieved her purse from the ground. "It's not safe to be outside tonight."

With the hostage taken care of, Batman rushed to the address the Joker had left him. None of his sons were responding to his calls. He told himself that they would still be alive. He just had to make it in time before that changed.

* * *

Batman checked the perimeter for traps before he went inside. When Batman entered the room, he was shocked by the scene in front of him. His sons were up against the wall in a line, restraints at their neck, wrists, and ankles. Their gloves and utility belts had been taken. Red Robin's cape had been removed, but his cowl remained. Red Hood's helmet was also gone, but the domino mask was still in place. Joker never did care about discovering their identities. What horrified Batman, though, was the syringe that was positioned so that it pressed up against each hero's throat. They weren't even able to turn their heads for fear of injecting whatever it was into their necks. Joker was nowhere in sight.

Batman's gaze quickly went over each of his sons. They were conscious and didn't appear to be injured, but they were all silent. He took a cautious step forward to a console that stood in between himself and his sons. The TV screen above the prisoners turned on, revealing the Joker's smirking face. "Oh, Batsy, so nice of you to join us. Your boys have been waiting oh-so-patiently for the game to start."

"What game?" Batman growled, his mind already jumping ahead to figure out the Joker's scheme. He could get everyone out of this alive if he just thought fast enough. He had outwitted the Joker before. He could do it again.

"It's a simple game, but it's important that you listen to the rules. The first rule, I've already told the Robins, they are not to talk until the game starts. The second, no stepping off the platform before the game is finished." Batman looked down and saw that he and the console were a step higher than the rest of the room. There was enough distance that he wouldn't be able to reach any of the prisoners without stepping down. No beams to attach a line to so he could swing across. Maybe a batarang, if he aimed it just right, could take out the contents of a syringe, but would he be able to break all four before the Joker retaliated?

"Now, how the game is played. You see in front of you four birds. There are four buttons on the console. You'll see that each button is labeled with a name. The button will activate the machine that will inject the drug into the neck of the chosen hero. Don't worry, it's a fast acting poison. Shouldn't cause too much pain." The Joker cackled at that. "All you have to do is choose. Pick one to die, and you can walk out of here with the other three. Very generous of me, I think. I could just kill them all. But that wouldn't be very sporting. You have five minutes. If you don't decide, you'll have four dead birdies on your hands. Choose quickly!" He laughed again and then the screen went blank. Batman had no doubt that the villain was still watching though.

"Batman!" one of the other heroes was calling, but he pushed it aside. Batman bent to inspect the console. He pried the cover loose and examined the wires inside. If he could cut the wires, then it would be safe for him to manually move the syringes away.

The TV flickered back to life. "Uh, uh, uh!" Joker said, wagging his finger. "No cheating!" He held up a remote. "If you can't play by the rules, then I'll press this button and end the game. One dies, or they all die."

"Release them," Batman commanded. "Take me instead."

"That's not how this game is played." Joker sounded petulant, though he had to know that Batman would offer himself up to protect his sidekicks, past and present. "Choose a Robin, or I'll choose for you." The TV turned back off.

Batman felt sick to his stomach. How could he make a choice like this? The timer was already down to four minutes, ten seconds. His sons were talking to him, drowning out his thoughts, but Jason's voice cut through the noise.

"Y'know you're going to chose me, so just get it over with. There's no point in keeping up the charade." There was anger in Red Hood's voice.

"Red Hood," Batman said sternly.

"You lost me once and got over it. I'm sure you'll survive a second time around."Jason's defense mechanism of pushing people away had kicked in immediately. He was so worried about being betrayed that he decided to force the issue to get it over with.

"That's not fair!" Nightwing insisted. "Don't do this, Hood."

"If we just think about this logically-" Red Robin started, but Robin cut him off.

"Logically decide who should die? Really, Red Robin..."

"That's not what I meant."

"Then what did you mean, Red Robin?"

"Maybe there's another way around this."

Red Hood interjected sarcastically, "The four of us can't move, we don't have our lockpicks, Batman can't step forward or tamper with the console, the Joker's watching our every move and if he suspects we're up to something, he'll kill us all. Am I missing something?"

"There has to be something," Red Robin insisted.

"Enough." Nightwing's strong, clear voice broke through the argument. "Batman, I want you to chose me. I'm the oldest. You need to protect the others."

Batman looked at the young man, the boy he had taken in fifteen years ago and loved as his son. "I can't."

"You have to. Time is running out. There's no way around it- we've all tried to think of something. Someone has to die. I'm fine with it being me, if that means the others survive."

"No, Nightwing!" Robin's voice cried out. "Batman, don't listen to him."

"So you'd rather one of the rest of us dies, Robin? As long as it's not Nightwing?" Red Hood said.

"Be quiet, Hood," Red Robin commanded. "Batman, how much time left?"

Batman looked down at the timer. "One minute, forty seconds."

"Do you see another way out of this, Batman?" Nightwing asked. " 'Cause I don't. If there was a way to get all of us out alive, I'd take it, trust me. I wouldn't throw my life away needlessly. But I'd do it to protect my family."

There was silence for several seconds. Then Red Robin spoke up quietly, "Is there a way to save all of us, Batman?" The Dark Knight shook his head guiltily. "Then choose me. Listen, you haven't known me as long as Nightwing or Red Hood, and I know you can't give up Robin... Let me make the sacrifice."

"No, Red Robin! It has to be me!" Nightwing insisted.

"Great, so now we're going to run out the clock with self-sacrificing gestures," Red Hood said rudely. "If I can remind everyone, I did offer myself first."

"Batman, we're running out of time. Please, say you'll do it," Nightwing begged.

Batman gave a tiny nod, even though the father in him was screaming no.

"I love you all," Nightwing said. He couldn't turn and face his brothers, but he strained his eyes to catch a glimpse of them. "This is my decision. It's not Batman's fault. Please help him remember that. Don't let him be like... Like before." Everyone knew he was referring to how Batman had been after Jason's death.

Bruce wanted to say something. He was never good at expressing love for his children, and the time constraint just made it worse. Besides that, he knew the Joker was still watching, intruding on this last moment he had with his son. He couldn't even call Dick by name without exposing their identities. "You were... It was an honor to have you as a partner." That was all he could say. His throat was closing up. "Nightwing, ten seconds."

"Do it," the hero said. He smiled one last time and closed his eyes. Batman watched the timer count down, six, five, four, hoping for a miracle. At two, it became clear there was no miracle coming. He pressed the button.

The machine jammed the syringe into Nightwing's neck. The young man gritted his teeth as the poison was injected into his bloodstream, then his head fell forward limply. Batman moved towards the prisoners. He forced himself to momentarily abandon Nightwing. Joker's games usually had a second part that leapt up unexpectedly when they thought they were safe. He had to get everyone out of the building at once. Batman headed for Red Hood instead. He unfastened the bindings and then ordered, "Release the others." Only then did he turn to his fallen son.

The TV turned on again, confirming Batman's fears. "Wow, I can't believe you actually did it. I didn't know you had it in you, Batman! I suppose you're waiting for Round Two. I wouldn't want to disappoint! There is a bomb underneath the floor. I've just activated it. You have sixty seconds to get out before it goes BOOM!" The TV turned off, leaving the heroes to move more frantically. After Red Hood released Red Robin, the man moved to Batman's side while Red Robin unfastened Robin's bindings. An unexplained hunch made Red Robin take a full syringe with him. Robin grabbed the box that contained their stolen belongings.

"We've got to get out of here, B," Red Hood said.

"I'm not leaving him," Batman said. He had checked Nightwing's pulse and found nothing. He was now undoing the bindings. Red Hood knelt to unfasten the straps on Nightwing's ankles. Soon, everyone was free. Batman carried Nightwing's body while Red Hood ushered the two younger boys out of the building. They had just crossed the street when the building exploded.

The four stood there, trying to let their minds come to terms with what just happened. Robin broke the moment by stepping closer to Batman and Nightwing. Batman made a decision. They wouldn't all fit in the Batmobile. If he didn't get Red Hood home, his wayward son would disappear and he would never have a chance to talk with him. He pressed the button on his utility belt to summon the Batmobile. "Red Robin, take Robin home. Hood, you're with me."

Red Hood and Robin started to protest, but Batman cut them off. "Stop," he commanded in a voice like steel. "Do as I said." The Batmobile pulled up and Batman laid his precious burden down in the backseat. Batman got in the front seat and Red Hood joined him in the passenger seat.

"See you kids at home," Red Hood said, trying to sound casual. "Be careful." The car roared away. Red Robin waited until the car was out of sight before speaking.

"Look, I know you're feeling a lot of emotions that you're not used to dealing with in ways other than violence, but let's get back to the Cave before we fight, okay?" Red Robin said tiredly to his successor. Robin gave a terse nod and the two boys went to the closest hidden door that led to the Batcave.

Red Robin opened the secret passage and they stepped inside, the door shutting behind them. Lights flickered on down the passage. Tim entered the code that would summon a motorcycle to their position. He wished there was a second bike that was programmed to come. It was five miles to the Batcave, which meant five minutes sharing a motorcycle with Damian.

He looked over at Damian to see if their truce was close to wearing off. If it had been anyone else in the world, Tim would swear they were close to tears. But this was Damian Wayne. Then again, Dick was the one person in the world the boy was close to. Since Damian didn't have a sword on him, and probably didn't have any knives either, Tim risked putting his hand on the boy's shoulder. "I'm sorry."

"It should have been you."

Tim was too tired to argue. "You know what? You're right. Dick held this family together. We've proven that everyone can function without me around. It should have been me."

Damian turned, and Tim could see there were tears on his face. "I didn't mean it. Sometimes I say things-" his voice broke.

"I know," Tim said. The motorcycle arrived then, and the boys climbed on without another word.

* * *

Bruce knew that he should have taken the opportunity to talk to Jason in the car while he could keep the young man around for the conversation, but words stuck in his throat. When they pulled up in the Cave, Jason immediately got out and walked away. Bruce called out before it was too late. "Jason! Stay the night." When the young man didn't act like he had heard him, Bruce added, "Please." Jason paused.

"One night," he agreed, and then continued away, passing Alfred in the process.

"Master Jason, it is so good to have you back home," the butler said, not offended when Jason didn't respond. Alfred almost said something about wearing costumes in the house, but he saw Jason pull off the domino mask as he climbed the stairs. It was late enough that Jason could get to his room to change without being seen by someone outside the family. And without the hood or mask, the rest of his clothes wouldn't be obvious as a hero's costume.

Alfred looked at Bruce, who had taken Dick from the Batmobile and was now carrying him. "Good heavens, why didn't you tell me? What medical equipment do you need?" The butler rushed toward Bruce's side, but Bruce didn't pause in his way to the med table in the middle of the Cave.

"Nothing."

Alfred had to veer to reach Bruce. "Nothing? Is he unconscious?" Both men reached the table at the same time. Bruce set down his cargo and set his palms on the table, allowing his weight to rest on it.

"No."

"But Master Bruce-" Alfred caught on to what was being implied, but he had to check for himself. He touched the young man's throat, and when he didn't find a pulse, he whispered, "Oh, no."

Bruce went to the Batcomputer and initiated a protocol that would inform Oracle that the Birds of Prey would be needed to patrol tonight. The police would need all the help they could get in taking down so many villains. The Bats were done tonight. Then he returned to the exam table where Alfred stood by the motionless body. "My fault," Bruce admitted aloud.

"Master Bruce, I have every confidence that you-"

"Not now, Alfred."

Alfred had been working for Bruce long enough that he knew what the man needed, and he knew that anything he said by way of consolation would fall on deaf ears. He tried another question, hoping that he wouldn't receive more bad news. "Masters Timothy and Damian?"

"On their way."

Alfred thanked God for not compounding the grief tonight with multiple deaths. "I shall see to them when they arrive, sir." In a rare physical gesture, he put his hand on Bruce's shoulder. "If you need anything, you know I will be close by."

Bruce managed a small nod of thanks, then resumed his undivided attention on his son's body. Alfred moved away to give Bruce privacy to mourn, and to give himself a chance to deal with his own grief. He cared for Bruce as his own son, and he privately thought of the boys as his grandsons. While the butler seldom showed his emotions outward, that didn't mean that this did not affect him. Dick's death weighed heavy in his heart.

A few minutes later, Alfred heard the engine of a motorcycle approach. He stepped forward to intercept Tim and Damian. Tim immediately pulled off his cowl, but Damian left the domino mask on. A desire to hug both boys overcame the butler, but Damian walked away before Alfred could decide whether or not to act on it. The boy headed upstairs. Tim noticed that Alfred didn't say anything about Damian wearing the Robin uniform upstairs. "It's good to have you home, young sirs," Alfred said before Damian was out of earshot. Damian didn't pause or respond.

"Thank you, Alfred," Tim said quietly. He looked over at Bruce's still figure.

"Best not to disturb him tonight," Alfred said, following the teen's gaze.

Tim nodded. "I'm just going to run something on the computer." He paused. "Maybe you should check on Damian. This is hitting him pretty hard."

"It is hitting us all hard, Master Tim." Alfred went upstairs to check on his other charges.

Tim carefully extracted a sample of the poison and set the computer to analyze it. He sat in front of the computer while it ran its diagnostics. After several minutes, a voice asked, "What are you doing?"

The teen looked back at Bruce, whose eyes were still fixed in front of him. Tim wondered if Bruce was really talking to him. "I brought home one of the syringes. I'm testing it now."

"Why?"

Grief from losing his brother, guilt from Damian's accusation, and now being questioned by Bruce all made Tim snap out his answer. "Why? Because I need to _do_ something. I can't sit here and be helpless, _useless_ , again." Tim broke down in tears. He heard Bruce come up behind him, but he still flinched when Bruce put his arm around him. "It should have been me."

"No, Tim." Bruce's heart was breaking again.

"You don't need me, not really."

"Don't say that. We need you. I need you." Tim turned into Bruce's embrace and sobbed. After a minute or two, the teen composed himself. As much as he wanted to stay in his father's arms, he forced himself to move away before Bruce could be the one to end the hug.

The computer beeped, alerting both heroes that the diagnostic was complete. "That's weird," Tim said, looking at the results.

"What is?" Bruce said, leaning over him to see. Even though he could probably figure it out on his own, he knew that Tim needed a self-esteem boost, and a good way to do that was letting Tim do what he did best.

"The major component of the drug injected into Dick was Succinylcholine. That's a muscle relaxant. It can be used as an anesthetic. And the dose of that alone wouldn't be enough to-" Tim cut himself off before he could say 'kill Nightwing.'

"Why would Joker use that in a poison?" Bruce asked, still staring at the screen intently. "And what is the rest of the compound?"

"I'm not sure," Tim said, his fingers moving over the keyboard as he tried to gather more information. "The computer doesn't recognize it. It could be a new drug. And usually when there's a drug the Batcomputer doesn't recognize, it's probably-"

"Crane's work," Bruce said. "But that leads to another question. Scarecrow likes his fear toxins. Why would he create a drug for Joker that would kill someone, without causing hallucinations and a spike in adrenaline?"

Tim shook his head. He didn't have answers yet. "I'm telling the computer to disregard the Succinylcholine aspect and compare the rest of the drug to the formulas we have on file of the Fear Toxins that Scarecrow has used before." When he finished typing, he looked back up at Bruce. "It will take longer to the computer to have results. Probably a few hours."

"You should get some sleep." Tim opened his mouth to argue."Please, Tim. You need your rest. This has been a... difficult night."

"What about you?" the teen asked, knowing before he received an answer that Bruce wasn't going to sleep tonight.

"I'm staying here."

"Goodnight, Bruce," Tim said, and he went to the Cave's bathroom to change out of his uniform. Just because Damian was going to break the rules didn't mean Tim was going to as well.

Upstairs, Tim paused by Damian's door, wondering if he should check on the boy. Then he heard voices inside and realized that Alfred was still with the boy. Tim also spared a glance down the hall at Jason's room. The teen came to the conclusion that he wasn't in the best shape to comfort anyone. He went to his own room and fell asleep, thoughts of losing everyone he loved haunting his nightmares.

* * *

A/N Stay tuned for part two.


	2. Chapter 2

Warnings for swearing and psychological torture.

The Choice

Chapter 2

"Master Damian?" Alfred asked, knocking lightly on the open door. Damian was sitting on his bed in pajamas. He didn't look up as he answered the butler.

"If you are here to lecture me on manners, I am not in the mood, Pennyworth. I realize I walked away without acknowledging you, but we will talk about it in the morning."

"That's not why I'm here," Alfred answered. He walked toward Damian and sat next to him on the bed. "How are you holding up?"

"It's so stupid!" Damian burst out. "We've fought the Joker before and won. There were _five_ of us. He shouldn't have stood a chance!

"But he did," Alfred said gently. "Can you tell me what happened?"

Damian sighed. "Joker broke out several villains from Arkham. While we were hunting them down, they got the drop on us. Joker brought us back to a warehouse as bait for Batman. He made Batman choose which one of us would die."

Alfred gave a small gasp. "He didn't!"

Damian nodded grimly. "If Batman didn't chose, then Joker would kill all of us. Grayson had to be the hero. He insisted it be him."

No wonder Bruce refused any consolation. Having to chose which son would die- this would be destroying the elder hero.

"I don't know why Father chose him. Grayson is clearly Father's favorite."

Alfred put his arm around the boy's shoulders. "Why would you say that?"

"It's true! It's obvious to see. Father will never love me as much as he does- did- him."

"Your father loves all of you. It's not a competition between you. I know Master Bruce has a difficult time showing affection, but that does not mean that he doesn't feel it. He is so proud of you and he loves you dearly."

"It doesn't matter. He didn't care for me like Grayson did. The others don't like me." There was a pause. "Alfred, I feel so alone."

Alfred pulled the boy in closer. "I know you are hurting, but you are not alone. Everyone is hurting now, but we need to be there for each other. Take this chance to get to know your other brothers. If you give them a chance, they might surprise you."

"They hate me. And with good reason. I haven't been very kind to either of them."

"You grew up in a household without much kindness. It takes time to unlearn habits. You have made remarkable strides in the time you've been here," Alfred said encouragingly. His words didn't have the desired effect.

"It was because of Grayson. He helped me. I don't know how I'm going to do it on my own." Damian felt a tear go down his cheek and angrily swiped it away. He hated showing vulnerability to anyone.

"It is okay to grieve, Master Damian. It is healthy, and it shows that you cared. You loved Master Dick, and it hurts that he's gone." Alfred felt the pain in his own heart as he said those words. It didn't seem real that the young man could be gone.

Damian nodded and rested his forehead against the butler's shoulder. "I wish he were here. He would help me."

"I will see what I can do to help, young sir," Alfred said. "I have had experience helping people deal with tragedy."

"Thank you, Alfred," Damian said softly. "I think I should go to bed."

"Of course." Alfred helped Damian into bed and pulled the covers up over the boy. "I won't be far. If you need me in the middle of the night, please come get me."

"Thanks." Damian closed his eyes. Alfred rested his hand on the boy's forehead briefly.

"Sleep well, Master Damian." The butler left the room, keeping the door open a crack. He headed to Master Jason's room next. He would need to check on all his charges tonight. Everyone was hurting. He knew that nerves would be raw in the coming days and it would be up to him to make sure that no one said or did anything that would shatter the already fragile relationships. The death of Dick Grayson might be what broke this family completely.

* * *

After Tim left, Bruce took off Nightwing's mask. Then Bruce grabbed a chair and moved it next to the body of his firstborn. He sat and steepled his fingers in front of his face. The man thought how he would never again see those beautiful blue eyes sparkle with mischief. His son was gone.

Every time one of the younger heroes had a brush with death, Batman was forced to reexamine the wisdom of letting teenagers fight evil on a regular basis. Could he justify bringing children in to fight his battles? But the boys seemed to come _alive_ when they put on the suit. They had purpose, meaning. And they were able to fight the ghosts of their pasts. So Batman allowed them to continue, telling himself that he would train them better so there wouldn't be another close call.

After Jason's death, Bruce tried to get Dick to stop crime fighting. It was like arguing with himself. Somewhere along the line, Dick had picked up Bruce's stubbornness. Being a hero was who he was, and no one was going to stop him. Dick was an adult, and Bruce's commands went unheeded.

And yet, when Tim showed up at his door, what did Bruce do but bring another child into this life? He could have lost all four of his sons tonight. And guilt over Dick's death weighed on Bruce more heavily than Jason's, if that were even possible, because even though Bruce had been too late to save Jason, he was the one to push the button that ended his Dick's life.

"I'm sorry, Dick," he whispered to the body that was too still. "It's my fault. I should have been able to save you."

Bruce sat with his hands folded under his chin, as if in prayer. But Bruce hadn't prayed since he was a child, when he realized that no amount of silent pleas to a powerful deity would bring back his parents.

At some point, Alfred had brought down water and a sandwich, which he placed on a table beside Bruce. When the man didn't move, Alfred cleared his throat and said, "Sir, if you will not be needing anything else, I will retire for the night. But if you should require anything, anything at all, I am but a call away." Bruce nodded slightly, and Alfred took that as permission to leave. He wanted to say something comforting, but he knew that Bruce was not in a position to accept reassurance. The butler would try again in the morning.

Bruce thought idly that he should change Dick out of his Nightwing uniform, but he couldn't seem to move. He sat there for hours. The man must have fallen asleep at some point, because he dreamed that Dick's chest was rising and falling, and that the young man's eyes were fluttering, as if he were also dreaming.

It was probably morning when Bruce realized his head was cradled in his arms, and that he had been resting on the table where Dick was. He sat up and brushed a wayward strand of hair from Dick's forehead. Then he froze, as he realized the body wasn't cold. He forced himself to touch the young man's forehead again. It was definitely cool, which was expected since they were in the Cave, but not the temperature a body should be several hours after death. Bruce's hand hovered over Dick's nose and felt air being exhaled.

Had Bruce been drugged with something? He believed his thoughts were clear. Bruce checked for a pulse on Dick's neck and wrist, and found one in both places. Denial? Hallucination? Dream? Maybe the emotional trauma was finally too much and he had cracked. He tried shaking the body, but Dick didn't open his eyes. But the young man was definitely breathing, and there was a steady heartbeat.

It was a miracle when Jason was brought back to life. Did Bruce really deserve a second miracle?

* * *

It was close to eight thirty when Tim woke up. It was odd to see the sun streaming in. Even when he came back from patrol at two or three in the morning, he never slept past seven unless he had sustained a serious injury. Good thing for summer vacation. They didn't need to worry about making up excuses for school absences.

Tim got dressed and went downstairs for breakfast. He was slightly surprised that Alfred hadn't come to wake him. Then again, the butler realized the loss everyone had suffered and would be more understanding of his failure to keep the routine.

Jason was already at the table when Tim arrived. The teen noticed that Jason had claimed his old chair, to the left of Bruce's seat. Tim had taken that chair when he moved into the house, because it would be awkward for there to be an empty chair between Bruce and him. Well, more awkward than their silent meals already were. Tim sat on the other side of Jason and took a piece of toast. He wasn't really hungry. It was more to give him something to do.

A few minutes later, Damian appeared, clothed in pajamas and slippers. Tim frowned. Apparently Damian didn't think it was important to follow Alfred's rules anymore. First uniforms in the house, and now pajamas to breakfast. He looked up to see how the butler would react.

"Eggs, Master Damian?" Alfred asked. The boy sat and shook his head. "Master Timothy?" Tim also shook his head.

"No thanks, Alfred. I don't think I could eat." He set down his piece of toast that he had only taken a single bite out of. His stomach was protesting the idea of food. Tim took a sip of water. Then he looked at his brothers to see how they were really doing.

It hit Tim that both his surviving brothers had actively tried to kill him, and they both hated him. Losing Dick was losing the only brother who got along with him. A lump formed in his throat and he thought again how unfair it was that the young man had died.

"We should be out looking for them," Tim said.

"Master Bruce has contacted Oracle. She is coordinating with the police during the day. She sent me an update. They have already apprehended Poison Ivy and Mr. Freeze," Alfred said.

Tim looked over at Alfred. To the untrained eye, the butler appeared the same as always, but Tim knew him well enough to see the tiredness. Had Alfred slept at all last night? Or had he gone to each family member in turn to see to their needs before retiring to his own room to grieve?

"I need all of you downstairs, now," Bruce commanded, appearing so suddenly in the room that everyone flinched. Tim was glad to see that Bruce had changed into a t-shirt and sweats. Damian wearing pajamas at breakfast was one thing, but Bruce in the Batsuit at almost nine in the morning in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows to the backyard was asking for trouble.

"What is it, Father? What's wrong?" Damian asked first.

Bruce didn't answer as he retreated out of the room. His boys looked at each other and then stood in unison to follow him. Alfred came too, unsure if "all of you" included him, but not willing to let his employer out of his sight when he was acting so strangely. They trailed after Bruce as he led them into the Batcave. He stopped them halfway between the stairs and the table that held Dick's body. Tim found himself pausing several feet behind the rest of his family, at the foot of the stairs. He wasn't ready to face the reality that his brother was gone. He didn't want to approach the body.

"Look," Bruce said, pointing at the table. "Tell me I'm not imagining things."

"Master Bruce," Alfred said comfortingly. "This is difficult to cope with, I know..."

Bruce cut him off. "Someone go look."

Jason moved forward. He stood by the table and looked down. Tim couldn't look at Dick, so he watched Jason instead. The man's expression was hard to read. The teen was pretty sure that even though the two men had their share of problems with each other, Jason did care for their older brother. Jason startled the others when he suddenly jerked back a step and yelped, "What the hell?"

"What is it?" Damian asked and again he didn't get an answer. They watched as Jason pressed his fingers to Dick's neck.

"No fucking way," he breathed. "I thought I saw his eyes move and now I've got a pulse." Damian and Alfred moved forward at that, speaking at once.

"What do you mean?"

"How is this possible?"

"The Succinylcholine!" Tim said, causing everyone to look at him. He moved to the computer while continuing his explanation. "I brought a sample of the poison back to test. The computer found a large amount of Succinylcholine in it, which is a muscle relaxant. In strong enough doses, or combined with other substances-" Tim's fingers moved over the keyboard, looking for confirmation of his theory, "-then it can slow heart rate and breathing down enough to mimic death. The computer says there is a good chance the unknown portion of this drug is not toxic." He looked up at the rest of the family. "He's not dead."

Dick opened his eyes at that moment. He blinked a couple of times to clear the blurriness. He saw figures hovering over him. The young man didn't feel fear, probably because he was too tired to feel anything. He thought he heard noises, but they were garbled. He blinked slowly few more times until his eyelids were too heavy to keep open. Dick slipped back into unconsciousness.

Damian reached forward and grasped Dick's hand. He held it for several seconds before remembering the others around him. He released the hand before someone could comment on his uncharacteristic sign of affection. "Why would the Joker do this? I mean, not follow through. He hasn't had a problem with killing before."

"To make me suffer," Bruce said quietly, and then amended, "To make all of us suffer."

"Is there something we can give Master Dick to speed his recovery?" Alfred asked.

Tim shook his head. "It wouldn't be wise. I still don't know what all was in that syringe. The best I can tell, he will sleep it off. When he wakes it will take a couple of hours for him to regain full motor control. But I'm hoping there will be no lasting damage."

"You hope?" Damian asked, and it sounded like a challenge.

"Yes, I hope. I told you, part of the drug is unknown, possibly created recently for this purpose. I don't know everything." Tim waited for a verbal barb from Damian, but none came.

"We should take turns watching him, until he's back to normal," Jason said, surprising everyone. He looked around at the stares. "What? I just thought he wouldn't want to be crowded as he's coming back from the dead."

"He won't be alone," Bruce promised, with the unspoken apology 'I'm sorry you were.'

"I'll take first watch," Jason said. Damian opened his mouth to protest, but Jason continued, "Look, it will take him some time to wake up and be able to move around. I want to make sure when it's your turn, Dick can smack you if you get too annoying."

Damian pressed his lips together. At first Jason thought the boy was angry, and then wondered if he was suppressing a smile. "Then it is good that you get the first watch. Even unconscious, Grayson is still superior fighter to you."

Jason grinned."Keep telling yourself that, kid."

* * *

It took some time for the rest of the family to clear out. After the close call, no one wanted to leave Dick's side. Jason got that, he really did, but it was grinding on his nerves. Miraculously, the others left before he snapped and drew blood. Jason congratulated himself on his self-restraint. They didn't have all four boys under the same roof at the same time for a reason, namely, there were too many weapons within reach and more than one of the boys thought physical violence was the best way to solve an argument.

He waited until he was sure they were truly gone before speaking. He didn't want to get caught in a mushy one-sided talk with an unconscious person who almost died. And all of the Bats had an annoying habit of sneaking up undetected.

"Good job, Goldie," he told his older brother. "So you cheated death. Managed to do it before the funeral, too. Wish I had been that clever. Trust me, it's no fun waking up in your own coffin. Although you have to wonder, does this cancel out your heroic sacrifice? I mean, you were never really dead."

He shook his head at himself. "I'm being an ass, I know. Just blowing off steam. I can see how everyone cares about you, even the Demon Brat, and it's hard not to feel, you know..."

"Doesn't matter. It is what it is. You're the perfect son, and I'm not. No changing that."

Dick groaned and his eyelids fluttered. He blinked slowly before opening his eyes completely. "Well, good morning, Sleeping Beauty. You get your twelve hours of sleep in?"

"Jason?" Dick croaked. Jason retrieved the water bottle and moved the straw to the other man's lips. Dick drank thirstily until Jason pulled it away.

"Hey, slow down. You don't want to make yourself sick. There's plenty of water." Jason moved the straw back and Dick drank a little more before finishing.

"Thanks." His voice was still a little hoarse. "What...?"

"Turns out, the drug wasn't poison. It faked your death, gave the rest of us a scare, but you'll be good as new as soon as it's out of your system."

Dick stared at the stalactites above him. "Is this real? Maybe I-"

"Maybe what? You're in heaven? Then you have a pretty crappy vision of paradise. It's cold, dark, and smells like bat poop." Jason pinched his arm. Dick grunted and glared at him. "There you go, proof of existence. No charge."

"Jerk," Dick said.

"Brother's prerogative," Jason reminded him. He said it sarcastically, but his words still earned him a slight smile.

"I think I'm gonna go back t'sleep, but before I do, you need to know..."

Jason rolled his eyes. "What do I need to know? What words of wisdom do you have for me?"

Dick yawned and blinked sleepily. "We love you. You are important." Jason opened his mouth to argue, but Dick was already asleep.

* * *

After Jason's shift, Tim took a turn. Alfred brought lunch down to Tim and Dick. Dick woke long enough to eat a few bites of a sandwich, and then he fell back asleep. When Damian came to relieve him, Tim went up to his room. The excitement- terror, grief, loss- of the past day had worn him out. He hadn't slept well last night, which hadn't come as a surprise to him. He was going to nap for a few hours so he would be ready for patrol that evening. Tim sat on the bed and removed his shoes and socks. He slept hard for a few hours, but when he woke, Tim felt worse than when he had fallen asleep.

He retrieved a pair of clean socks from the drawer and sat to put them on. When he lifted his foot, he noticed a tiny scab between his big toe and the toe next to it. He examined it. If he didn't know better, Tim would have said it looked like a puncture wound from a syringe. But he hadn't been... Wait, he had been unconscious last night with the villains around. The Joker could have dosed him with something. Suddenly, his symptoms were suspect. The headache he blamed on lack of sleep could be a sign of something more sinister. He stood up and was dizzy. Placing a hand on the bed to steady himself, Tim forced himself to breathe deeply. He should have known that the Joker would have more in mind than faking Nightwing's death. The clown always had something more up his sleeve.

When the room stopped spinning, Tim went back downstairs, holding the banister so he wouldn't go toppling down the stairs. Dick was still on the examination table, but he had been propped up with several pillows. He was talking animatedly with Damian. The boy had the barest hint of a smile on his face. "Damian, I need you to take off your shoes," Tim said abruptly.

Damian gave him a weird look, one that questioned Tim's sanity instead of his intelligence, which was a welcome change from Damian's usual glares. "For what purpose?"

"I think I've been drugged, and I want to see if you have been too. Shoes off," Tim commanded before the edges of his vision blurred. He felt himself list to the side but someone grabbed him before he could connect with the ground.

"What's going on, Little Red?" Jason asked from beside him.

"You, too, Jason. Take your shoes off."

"Drake thinks we've been drugged," Damian informed his older brother. "I would like to remind everyone of my high tolerance-"

"Yeah, yeah, high tolerance to drugs," Jason finished. He helped Tim to the large chair in front of the Batcomputer. Then he leaned against the table so he could pull his own shoes off. He found the same puncture wound between his toes. He swore quietly. "You weren't wrong, kiddo," he said.

Damian sat on the table that Dick was lying on and also pulled off his shoes and socks, all the while muttering about superior genes and resistance to foreign substances. He also found the wound.

"Now what?" Dick asked worriedly. "It's been several hours. Do any of you have any symptoms?"

"No," said Damian shortly, thinking that his earlier professions of his body's strengths covered everything the others needed to know.

Jason shook his head. "Me neither. How are you feeling, Replacement?"

Tim paused a moment. He hated complaining about how he felt, but this was important. If the three of them had been drugged, it was vital to know what symptoms to look for. "Headache, fatigue, and dizziness. I thought the first two were just from not getting enough sleep. Now I'm worried about what the Joker dosed us with."

"At least it's not Smilex," Damian said grimly. "If we were all given the same dosage, than it makes sense that you would be affected first. You have a lower body weight than Todd, and I have my higher resis-" he cut himself off when he noticed the others giving him a look.

"We need to run tests," Dick said, sitting up all the way. Damian glared at him and tried to push him back into the pillows.

"You almost died last night. You need to take it easy," he reprimanded his older brother. "We can take care of this."

"Damian, why don't you run upstairs and tell Bruce and Alfred what we've found out?" Jason said. "Tim and I will start running an analysis on our blood."

Damian nodded and went upstairs. Jason waited until the boy was out of earshot before saying, "That clown is a piece of shit. I can't believe he would- yes, actually I can."

"Tim will find an antidote," Dick said with a certainty that Tim didn't feel.

"Let me look into it before you put your confidence in me," Tim said. "The drug used on you wasn't something I had ever seen before. This could be something new as well."

Tim got an empty syringe and tried to draw some blood, but his hand started shaking. "Hey," Jason said gently and took the syringe out of the teen's hand. "Let me."

Jason got samples of both of their blood and the computer was working on identifying any possible toxins when Damian returned, Bruce and Alfred in tow.

"What have you found out?" Bruce said before he had even reached the bottom of the stairs.

Tim shook his head and said, "We just started running the samples." He watched as Jason got a clean syringe and went over to Damian to get a blood sample from him too. "I won't know anything for several minutes, possibly an hour if this is a new drug."

Bruce pressed his lips together in displeasure. "Tim, you should go upstairs and rest." Damian must have told him about Tim's symptoms. Tattletale.

"I just took a nap. Besides, I'm more useful down here," Tim protested.

"I want you to be in good shape to help us when the results come in. If this drug isn't something that will go away on its own, you're our best shot for developing an antidote."

Tim felt momentary pride in Bruce's praise, then his stomach twisted with nausea. Great, another symptom. "Maybe I will lie down," he said. Alfred moved to his side and walked him up to his room.

"Dick, how are you feeling?" Bruce asked.

"Fine," Dick answered honestly. "I've been recuperating steadily since I woke up. I haven't had any additional symptoms."

Bruce went to the computer and started to bring up files. "We need to find Crane. He will have an antidote for anything he's created."

Jason nodded. "I can suit up and-"

Bruce shook his head. "I don't like that idea."

"Why?" Jason retorted. "You think I'll kill him before we get the answers we need?"

"No, I don't like you going out when you have an unknown substance in your blood."

"Whatever," Jason said and stormed upstairs. Bruce wondered if Jason would continue right through the front door, but he didn't have time for a confrontation with Jason. He had to hope that his wayward son would stay close by.

Bruce sat in the recently vacated chair and started typing. Dick sat up and was again pushed back down by Damian. "You need to rest, Dick," Bruce said without turning.

"I'm sitting up, not taking on attack ninjas," Dick retorted. "I could do research."

"No. And that's an order. I don't want to jeopardize your recovery. You need to take it easy." Bruce paused and then continued, "You can help when you're feeling better."

Even though Dick knew that 'feeling better' would be determined by Bruce instead of him, it was a step for Bruce to even add that part. "Fine. Just know I won't be benched for long." Bruce grunted in reply, which would mean anything. Dick settled back down, already planning his escape if Bruce didn't give him a clean bill of health in a timely matter. His brothers' lives were a stake. He wasn't going to take that lying down.

* * *

Jason waited until after dinner. He thought that maybe he could lull Bruce into a false sense of security, or maybe the old man would be too distracted to count his sons and find one missing. Jason slipped downstairs into the Batcave. Dick's eyes were closed, so maybe he was sleeping, or maybe he was going to open his eyes and scold him for running off.

"Where are you going?" a voice said. Jason looked towards the bed, but Dick didn't move. It didn't sound like his voice either. The young man turned to the computer and the imposing chair swiveled around to reveal his replacement.

"Shh, you'll wake Dick."

"He's out cold. Our conversation won't wake him," Tim said.

Jason considered making a joke about sleeping like the dead, but refrained. See? He could do tact. Instead he said, "Shouldn't you be in bed?"

"I've been drugged. It's happened before. I'm capable of knowing my limits."

"That's a load of crap. I've seen you run yourself into the ground before when on a case. You're not a model of taking good care of your health."

"No one in this family is. You still haven't answered my question. Where are you going? Bruce told you to stay."

"Bruce isn't the boss of me." Jason winced inwardly at how childish that sounded. He continued, "There's stuff that's gotta be done, and I'm doing it. I'm not going to wait for you to find the miracle cure. No offense."

"None taken, I'm sure."

"I just need a motorcycle, and I'm on my way."

"Batcycle," Tim said absently.

"I'm not calling it that. That's ridiculous."

"As long as you don't touch the Redbird." Tim's attention was back on the computer. He didn't look up when Jason walked away. When Jason reached the vehicles, he was sorely tempted to take Tim's bike, just because. But something held him back. Maybe worry for the young bird. Tim hadn't looked like his health was improving any. And time was only going to make it worse. Pulling the red helmet on, Jason claimed a black bike and rode off before someone in the family would try to stop him.

* * *

It took an hour of interrogating thugs for Jason to find Scarecrow's hideout. By that time, his head was beginning to pound. Jason refused to believe it was the toxin. He kicked in the door. Screw subtlety, he was on the clock. He swept the room for the villain and came up empty. Holstering one of the guns, Jason moved to investigate the strange chemicals that were lined up in vials and beakers on the counter. Reading the labels didn't help. Jason couldn't pronounce most of them. He wondered how many were Scarecrow's own concoctions.

A noise made him whirl around, but his distraction cost him. A metal pipe hit his helmet hard enough for him to go sprawling on the ground. He got off a shot, but it went wild. Jason tried to leap to his feet, but Scarecrow hit him again. This time his helmet cracked. Jason knew Scarecrow's next move would be the Fear Toxin and his helmet wouldn't provide any protection. He pulled the helmet off and threw it at Scarecrow. He reached for the trigger to detonate it, but before he could touch the button, it turned into a scorpion. Jason threw the offending creature across the room before his rational mind told him that Scarecrow must have unleashed the Fear Toxin as soon as the villain entered the room. Jason forced himself to scramble for the trigger, telling himself that the scorpion was a result of his fear. It couldn't hurt him.

Scarecrow hit him a third time with the metal pipe, and without the helmet to protect him, the blow sent him into unconsciousness.

When Jason awoke, he was strapped to a table. He looked around and saw he was still in Scarecrow's lab. Jason wished there was a clock on the wall so he would know how much time he had lost being unconscious. A momentary panic overtook him as he feared that his domino mask had been taken. His hand instinctively reached for his face to check but the restraints reminded him how futile that was.

A noise made Jason flinch. A shadowy figure moved closer to the table. At first, Jason thought it was Scarecrow, but then he realized that is was someone else he knew. "Dad?" he asked before remembering the importance of keeping a secret identity. Then again, even if Scarecrow was around, the villain couldn't see other people's hallucinations. So as long as he kept in mind this wasn't real, he wouldn't spill any sensitive information to Scarecrow.

"What do you think you're doing, lying around? Get off your lazy butt and clean up around here. I don't work all day to come home to this pigsty!" This isn't real, Jason told himself, but it seemed so real, down to the last detail. The way his father looked, his tone of voice, everything.

"Wait, Dad," Jason cried out as Willis raised his hand to strike him. "I'm sorry, I'll do better." The words were born of instinct, the desire to keep the pain away. It didn't matter that Jason was a fully grown man and had an advantage of more muscle and more training than his father. The fear made him a scrawny twelve year old cowering before an angry, drunken man with the power to hurt him.

Willis' hand came down hard on the table beside Jason's head. The young man jerked away as far as the straps would allow. "You ungrateful brat. I oughta wring your sorry neck."

"Dad, please," Jason begged. Willis' hand formed a fist. Jason closed his eyes and steeled himself for the blow.

Two gunshots rang out. Jason opened his eyes to see twin wounds in his father's chest. Willis stood frozen for several long seconds, then he fell backwards. Jason turned his head to look at the shooter and saw Two Face.

The villain sneered, making his disfigured face look even more terrifying. He walked towards the bound figure, flipping the coin that he always carried. "And what should I do about you? Hmm? Kill you or spare you?"

What Jason wouldn't give for a batarang right about now. He'd faced Two Face before and other, scarier villains, but this time was different. His heart hammered in his chest and he couldn't seem to draw in a full breath. His thoughts scattered before he could think of a plan to escape.

"What does the coin say?" Two Face flipped the coin one final time and checked the result. "Too bad for you." He raised the gun again. Jason tried to tell himself that at least this death would be quick, but that was small comfort.

"Jason!" The young man turned his head to face his savior.

"Mom, no! He'll kill you too!" he tried to warn Catherine, but she approached him with outstretched arms. Jason looked back at Two Face, a plea to spare his mother on his lips, but the villain was gone. "What's going on?"

"Don't worry, everything will be okay now. Mom's here," she said as if he were a small child. She released him from the straps and he hugged her tightly.

"We've got to get out of here," he said, remembering there was a threat, but not recalling the details.

"Just one quick thing, honey." It was then that Jason noticed the tourniquet around her arm.

"No, Mom, don't. You don't need that," Jason pleaded, but Catherine already had the syringe in her hand.

"I need it, just a little, and then I'll be okay again."

Jason tried to grab her arm to stop her, but the woman plunged the syringe into the crook of her arm. Her eyes rolled back and she started to fall backwards. Jason caught her before she could hit the ground.

"We've got to go. We're running out of time." A beeping sound caught Jason's attention. "No," he whispered in fear as he saw the giant red numbers counting down. "No, I'll save you!"

He picked his mother up, but she vanished from his arms. He frantically tried to find her, but instead found Bruce, Alfred, and the rest of the family tied up with syringe-wielding criminals behind them. Joker walked out from the shadows, swinging a crowbar. "Looks like you're here just in time for the family reunion. You know what do to- choose."

"I won't let you hurt them," Jason protested.

"Choose."

"Me. Take me and leave them alone." The beeping was getting louder.

"You're running out of time, Robbie my boy. Choose or they all die." Joker pointed at the ground where Catherine had just reappeared. Or was it Sheila? The woman's features shifted back and forth from the woman who raised him to the woman who gave birth to him.

"W-what?" Jason asked, uncomprehending.

"Your old family or your new one. Which one lives, which one dies? Choose now." Jason turned to Batman for support, but the hero's eyes were full of disappointment and condemnation.

"I- I can't." The timer was on five, four, three...

"CHOOSE!"

Jason screamed.

* * *

A/N One more chapter!


	3. Chapter 3

Thanks to everyone who read this story, especially those who reviewed. Here's the final chapter.

The Choice

Chapter 3

Tim must have dozed off in the chair because when he woke up, Batman was standing next to him. He tried to decide if Bruce coming into the Batcave and changing with waking Tim was a sign of Bruce's stealth or of how bad off Tim was. His brain was sluggish, so he let that thought go.

"Where's Jason?" Batman asked.

"He left."

"I told him to stay here."

"He told me that you weren't the boss of him. I extrapolated that he also didn't consider that I was the boss of him. Plus, I'm not really in a position to stop him." Batman's eyes narrowed, but Tim had been on the receiving end of the Batglares enough that he was mostly immune.

Tim's head was definitely hurting now. He looked around the cave to give him something to focus on. Dick had suited up, but Damian's hero garb was conspicuously absent. The boy scowled, his arms crossed. So, Robin was benched. Tim hoped that Alfred was up for running interference. He wasn't in the mood to deal with an angry little brother.

Batman and Nightwing left. Tim sighed and turned back to the computer. He was vaguely aware the Damian was still behind him, probably pouting, but since the boy wasn't doing anything to disturb him, Tim decided to ignore him. Then Tim's stomach revolted, and the teen fled to the bathroom. He retched painfully over the toilet. Great, this was his favorite symptom so far. He cleaned himself up and went back to the computer. Damian was still standing there.

"What?" Tim asked unpleasantly.

"You should be in bed," Damian replied.

"I need to get this done. Who else is going to do it, you?"

"I have more than a basic knowledge of chemistry," Damian said evenly.

"You need more than that. Scarecrow is a genius when it comes to creating new chemical formulas, and he's had decades to experiment. There are still parts of this compound that the computer hasn't been able to identify. I might stand a chance of creating an antidote. I don't think you do."

"Show me what you're working on. I'll take over while you rest. Then I'll wake you when I need your assistance."

Tim stared at the other boy. Damian said 'when' not 'if.' And he didn't get angry over the jab to his intelligence. "Who are you and what have you done with Damian?"

"I do not understand."

"You're being _nice_."

"You are ill and dying, and the only person in the world has access to the antidote is a villain. I thought this was one of those times where I was expected to show... compassion."

"You never cease to amaze me, kid." Tim looked at the screen. "If I rest, it will just make it harder to refocus when I come back. I need to press on." Tim covered his mouth as the rest of the contents of his stomach threatened to leave. Damian quickly acquired a small trash can and brought it to Tim's side. Thankfully, the teen didn't need to use it.

"Can I have Pennyworth get anything for you?"

"I don't know."

"Perhaps some pain reliever?"

"It might cloud my judgment."

"You know, if things get bad, there is a cure close by."

"Where? Scarecrow's hideout? That's where Batman and Nightwing are going." Tim wondered if the reminder that the other heroes were out while Damian himself was stuck here would set the boy off.

"No, here." Damian indicated the sample Tim had recovered before the bomb had gone off.

"Yeah, but that's my test sample. If I use it, it will make it more difficult to come up with an antidote for you and Jason. Plus, it's Joker's modified version, so it will knock me unconscious for several hours. I won't be able to work on the antidote. "

Damian gave Tim a look. Tim wondered if the younger boy was trying to communicate that he knew that, and he was willing to take that chance, but Damian turned away before Tim could figure it out for sure.

"I'll fetch Pennyworth. I'm sure you'll think of something you need." Damian turned and walked away.

"Hey, Damian?" Tim called when the boy was halfway up the stairs. "Thanks."

* * *

Nightwing and his mentor were silent as the Batmobile raced down the streets. Part of the reason for his silence was that he didn't want to remind Batman he was there and have the older hero change his mind about Nightwing coming along. The other part of him worried about his brothers. What if Scarecrow had destroyed the antidote and the notes on how to create it? Would Tim be able to reverse-engineer a cure in time?

They reached the hideout before too much time had passed. Even though it was still early evening, Batman knew all the back alleys and shortcuts to get anywhere in Gotham quickly. That was good; lives were on the line. Batman signaled for Nightwing to join him on the roof. The two heroes used their grappling hooks to get to the roof. Batman motioned to their point of entry- a small skylight. They burst through and glided to the floor. Nightwing didn't see Scarecrow, but he did hear screaming from one of the villain's victims. Nightwing rushed to the table to help the man while Batman swept the area looking for Scarecrow. Nightwing was shocked to find the man tied to the table was his missing brother. "Hood?" he asked in surprise, years of training keeping him from saying Jason's civilian name. Villains had a tendency to hide in corners and hear things they shouldn't.

Jason screamed again as Nightwing undid the straps. Nightwing made sure to duck the other man's wild swings as soon as Jason's arms were free. Then he stepped in close and wrapped his arms around Red Hood's middle, pinning the other man's arms to his sides. "Batman! I need an antidote to the Fear Toxin!" Nightwing knew that Batman had brought along antidotes to Scarecrow's last three fear toxins. Batman kept samples of all the previous versions of the antidote in the Cave.

Batman returned to Nightwing's side and injected the antidote into Jason's neck. Jason stiffed, then slumped over in Dick's arms. Nightwing found a pulse and then let out the breath he had been holding. "He's going to be okay."

"That is if the Fear Toxin and antidote don't react poorly with the drug Joker gave him," Batman said grimly.

Batman and Nightwing whirled around as a figure entered the room. "Rebreather," Batman commanded, but Nightwing was reaching for the item even before the older man had spoken. After Nightwing put the rebreather on, he started to put a spare one on Jason's face. It could have been a different strain of the Fear Toxin than what the young man had been infected with earlier. His preparedness was unnecessary, however. Batman knocked the villain out with one punch. When he was sure the danger had passed, Nightwing put both rebreathers away.

Jason was coming back to consciousness. "Wing?" he asked blearily.

"Yeah, it's me. You're safe. We're going to take you back home. Can you walk?"

Red Hood swung his legs so they dangled over the side of the table. Nightwing kept his arm around the other man to support him. "You'd better hope so," Jason replied, sounding more like himself. "Because you can barely bench press your own weight, much less mine."

"You know, some people think it's an accomplishment to bench press their own weight."

"Some people aren't Bats."

"True. C'mon, lazy butt. You've been resting long enough."

Red Hood grunted in reply and slid the rest of the way off the table.

"How bad was it?" Nightwing asked quietly.

"Bad," Red Hood said shortly, his tone making it clear that he wasn't going to elaborate. Nightwing gave his arm a comforting squeeze and they made their way over to Batman, who was going through the papers on Scarecrow's desk.

"I found his notes. There's only a small sample of the antidote here, though. It's up to Red Robin now." The three men hoped that the teen wasn't already too far gone.

* * *

Damian was pacing the length of the Batcave when the other heroes returned. "Do you have it?" he asked as Batman exited the car.

"We have the notes and a sample of the antidote. We'll have to synthesize more of the drug before we administer it, or we won't have anything to compare our drug to. We should also check the dosage for each of you," Batman said.

"That's good," Damian said, looking worried. "Drake is not doing well. He passed out shortly after you left, and his internal temperature has been hovering around 103 since then."

"Where is he?" Dick asked worriedly, removing his domino mask.

"Pennyworth insisted that he go to bed. Drake left his notes on the computer for when you returned. He hoped that you would be able to create an antidote if he was... incapacitated."

Batman went to the computer and got started without another word. He didn't even pause to remove his cowl. Dick helped Jason from the Batmobile. "Here or upstairs?" Dick asked. "Either way, you're lying down."

"Bossy," Jason said. "I guess the action's all here." Dick kept his arm around his younger brother as they walked slowly to the exam table. "Don't suppose I could get some blankets? It's freezing down here."

"Can you get them?" Damian asked his oldest brother. "I would like to be here in case Father needs help with the notes. Drake explained them to me."

Dick nodded and went upstairs. This would also give him a chance to peek into Tim's room to see how the teen was doing.

Damian stood uncertainly between Jason and his father. He didn't want to offer his help to Bruce without being invited for fear of being rebuffed, and although he had a feeling he was supposed to say something comforting to Jason, the boy wasn't sure what to say.

"How are you feeling?" Jason said, breaking the ice first.

Damian shrugged. "I am beginning to show the symptoms Drake described at first- headache and dizziness. It has not progressed to the point where it is interfering with my abilities." He paused. "And yourself?"

"So sick of drugs and toxins and antitoxins," Jason muttered. "Are there any more drugs that people want to pump me full of?"

"Perhaps just one more, to save your life," Damian said with a slight smile.

Jason groaned and laid his head back on the table. "Who do I have to kill for a pillow?" Damian quickly looked at Bruce to see his reaction to the ill-humored joke, but the man didn't look up. Damian fetched a pillow and offered it to Jason. Then he went to Bruce's side.

"Can I offer my assistance, Father?" he asked hopefully.

"You should be resting," Bruce answered.

"I have been monitoring my symptoms. I am functioning perfectly to interpret the notes. Drake explained what he was working on earlier."

Bruce spared him a glance. "Fine. The first thing you can do is figure out the amount for the dose based on your bodyweight."

"Drake already did that. See?" Damian pulled up a chart on the computer. "It has our weights and approximations on how much of the antidote we need. He calculated it so that it is comparable in each column. There's a low, medium, and high dose. He recommended that we start with the lowest dose, and after an hour if there is no positive change, administer the medium dose. Drake also has notes on what actions to take if that is still not effective. He was very thorough. Drake also thought it best not to take any other medicine because we don't know how it will interact with either the toxin or the cure. " Damian lowered his voice. "Drake has followed his own advice. He has not taken anything for the pain."

Bruce paused, then said, "Good work. To both of you."

"You don't have to worry, Father. Drake is good at this sort of thing. We will all be fine." Jason took this opportunity to vomit on the floor. Father and son turned to look. "Keep working. I'll get Pennyworth to help with Todd."

The tired father forced himself to ignore Jason's distress and concentrate on the work in front of him. If he couldn't get the antidote created in time, he wouldn't be able to help anyone.

* * *

The next twelve hours were excruciating for the Wayne family. Dr. Thompkins was called in when Tim's high fever reached the four hour mark. She was frustrated that she couldn't give the teen any medicine to lower the fever, but when the others explained the unknown drug in Tim's system, she was forced to agree. They used ice instead to lower his temperature.

Jason was transferred to his room and soon Damian ended up in his own room as well. Bruce created an antidote with the help of the notes and compared it to the sample. The boys received their first dose at 11 PM. After an hour of no change, a second dose was administered. Dr. Thompkins watched over Tim, Alfred stayed with Jason, and Bruce was with Damian. Dick went from room to room, bringing supplies and relieving the caregivers as they needed breaks.

There were several scares throughout the night. Jason threw up blood and Tim stopped breathing for three terrifying minutes. Finally, as the sun came up, positive changes became apparent. The fevers broke and breathing became normal. Damian was first to open his eyes at 8 AM, but then fell back asleep. Tim woke briefly an hour after that and was also conscious for a short time. The drug had taken its toll on their bodies and all they had energy for was sleeping. Jason took the longest to recover. Bruce knew that Scarecrow's fear toxin plus the antidote could not have reacted well with the poison Jason had been drugged with initially. When Jason finally regained consciousness at 10:30, everyone breathed easier. Like his bothers, he was only awake for a few minutes, and he didn't seem to be aware of his surroundings.

When they were sure the danger had passed, Bruce, Alfred, and Dick thanked Dr. Thompkins. She was hesitant about leaving. "If they relapse, you will call me," she ordered. Only after extracting promises from all three men did she leave.

Alfred went to prepare something for a late breakfast, leaving the other two men in the front hall.

"We need to talk," Bruce said before Dick could leave. He was dreading the conversation with his oldest. He wanted to pretend that everything was okay, but there had been enough words left unsaid in the last several years between them. Fate had seen fit to return his son to him when it appeared that the young man was dead, which he was eternally grateful. But if they didn't clear the air, Dick might take off again like when he was a teenager and one too many arguments prompted the young man to leave Gotham.

"About what?" Dick looked genuinely confused.

"About me letting you die. Choosing for you to die," Bruce corrected.

"Bruce, don't worry about it. I'm fine."

"No, this is important. I don't want to you to think that it was easy for me to- Look, you know how much you mean to me, right?" The man felt like he was pleading, desperate for his son to understand. As a child, Dick had been good about trusting in Bruce's love even when the older man struggled with showing it. But the rocky patch in their relationship during Dick's late teens and early twenties made Bruce worry that he was losing his son in a different way.

Dick's smile was exhausted, but still as bright as ever. "Bruce. Listen to me. Everything I said back there, I meant. I love you all, and I would die to protect any of you, without hesitation. Joker put you in that situation because he knew it would hurt you. Don't let it break you. Don't let him win. We're all alive, and we're together. We won." When Bruce didn't look convinced, Dick put his hand on the other man's shoulder. "I don't blame you, so don't blame yourself."

"Sometimes I wonder what I did to deserve you."

Dick laughed. "Remember that the next time I wreck a motorcycle." Bruce smiled a little in return.

"You should go to bed. You're still recovering," he said. "You won't be able to help anyone if you run yourself into the ground."

Dick snickered. "Pot, kettle."

"Soon, I'll relax. You go take care of yourself, then I'll rest too." The two men climbed the stairs. Bruce paused outside Jason's room and watched as Dick walked down the hall. But Dick didn't head to his own room. Instead, he went into Tim's. Bruce followed him to give him a lecture on talking care of himself, but when he looked into the room, Dick was lying on the bed next to Tim. His arm was wrapped protectively over his little brother.

Bruce quietly left the room and went to Jason's. The young man was still sleeping. Bruce sat on the chair by the bed quietly so he wouldn't disturb him. Jason's hand twitched, so Bruce placed his own hand over it. He rubbed his thumb gently on the back of Jason's hand. Why was it easier to show affection to his children when they were asleep?

The man sat there for close to an hour, keeping vigil, until finally Jason awoke. After the young man's eyes focused on his surroundings, he saw Bruce's hand covering his own. Embarrassed, Bruce pulled away and folded his hands in his lap. Jason coughed, so Bruce passed him the cup of water from the bedside table. He waited until Jason drank and handed him back the cup before speaking.

"Jason, we need to talk."

"And you waited until I was recovering from almost dying to do this talk so I wouldn't run off."

Bruce shifted uncomfortably. "That wasn't my intention..."

"Yes, it was, but I see your point. Just make it a quick conversation, or I might try leaving anyway."

"When you and your brothers were captured by Joker... You seemed to think that I would just give you up without a fight. That I would be willing to sacrifice you."

"It was a life or death situation. Don't read too much into it."

"I think critical situations like that are when people's real feelings come out. You don't think you are important to me."

Jason looked up at the ceiling. "I know you say you care, and I wanna believe that. Really, I do. It's just that- well, people haven't had the greatest track record of standing by me."

"You've been betrayed before. By your father. By Catherine and Shelia. I know that you feel I betrayed you too. I want- I want you to know..."

Jason's eyes flicked over to Bruce. "What?"

Bruce sighed and stood up. Jason cried out, "Hey, not fair! You can walk out on this conversation, but I can't?" The young man sat up. "I call bull. You waited until now to talk, so get it out. What do you want me to know?"

The man sat again. "I would gladly die to keep you safe. You are my son, Jason, no matter what you do or don't do." He paused, and for a moment Jason wondered if the other man was going to say 'I love you.' Then Bruce looked away and the moment was over. Jason knew that sentence was difficult for Bruce to say. But he could tell that the sentiment was there.

"Bruce?" Jason waited until the man's gaze returned to his face. "Thanks."

* * *

By that evening, all the Arkham escapees had been returned to their cells, courtesy of the Birds of Prey and Gotham's Finest. All the breakouts except the Joker, that is. Batman went on patrol alone, insisting that his sons stay at home until he called for them. He was met with unhappy looks (and one mutinous one). Worried that one or more of them would suit up and leave without backup, Batman explained his plan. They were more agreeable after that. Jason insisted on a small addition to the plan which Batman agreed to. Dick pointed out the value of sharing plans with your partners. Batman gave him a _look_ and then left.

It took two hours for Batman, with Oracle's help, to track down the villain. Once Batman confirmed that Joker was in that location, he called the Cave to summon his sideki- no, his partners. Batman guessed correctly that the four of them had been suited up and waiting in the Cave for the call. It only took a few minutes for them to show up. Nightwing and Robin swung in on lines, and Red Hood and Red Robin arrived on motorcycles. Batman looked them over carefully to make sure they looked up to the task. Robin noticed the scrutiny and tsked. "Tt. We are perfectly able to do our parts. As I recall, it is a lot of standing around."

Batman pushed down the fear of having his sons in the same room as the madman who tried to kill them twice in the past two days, with the bomb and then poison. He would keep Joker from hurting them again. He nodded, and the heroes moved into position.

Batman went in first. Joker was alone, pacing the room and muttering to himself. Batman positioned himself behind the clown, so when Joker turned and saw him, the villain flinched. "Batsy! I didn't know you were coming! I was hurt when you didn't invite me to the funerals. After all, I was such an important part of their lives, and well, their deaths too."

Batman resisted the urge to punch the villain in the face. "There wasn't a funeral."

"No?" Joker asked. "Scarecrow swore the birdies would be dead in twenty-four to thirty-six hours. It's so hard to get good help these days." Joker sighed, and then continued, "We had a bet on which one would go out first. He thought it would be the littlest one, but I was hoping for the one who stole my look."

Batman stood still, not betraying how much the Joker's words were affecting him. The villain frowned, not liking how the banter was one-sided. "So if the birds are still alive, where are they? Are you too afraid to let them leave the nest?"

"Right behind you." Joker turned at the voice to see Nightwing.

"Ah, Nightwing. I was so surprised that Batman chose you to die. Were you? I guess you never really know someone until-"

"You never stop talking, do you?" came another voice. Joker turned to see Red Hood.

"Hoodie! You know, I've never told you, but I think you're my favorite. Which is good, since Batman doesn't seem to care. You and I have had some good times, don't you-"

"I'm hurt, Joker. You told me I was your favorite," Red Robin chimed in. Joker turned again to get a look at the newcomer.

"Well, you see-"

"You know you can't take anything this clown says at face value, Red Robin," Robin said. "I don't even think his brain is connected to his mouth."

Joker turned his head to scan his opponents, who had formed a tight ring around him. "Well, look! A family reunion. I'm so glad I could bring you all together again. Why don't we play a game-"

"Red Hood," Batman said, and the other hero nodded.

Joker faced Red Hood to see what the hero had planned and was punched in the face. He fell to the ground and complained, "Ow! That's not sporting at all."

Red Hood kicked the villain in the head, and the Joker fell unconscious. "Finally. I get so tired of hearing him talk."

"I still don't understand why Hood got to be the one to hit him," Robin complained.

"Seniority," Red Hood said, then remembered Nightwing. "And I deserve it."

Red Robin snorted. "Keep telling yourself that."

"Let's notify the police and go home. I think this deserves a movie night," Nightwing interjected before a fight could break out.

Batman nodded. "Let's go home."

* * *

After changing into more comfortable clothes, the boys gathered in the den because it had the biggest TV and a couch big enough for all four of them to fit. "So, what movie are we going to watch?" Tim asked.

"I want a Western," Jason said.

"Rom com," Dick said, and the other boys threw pillows at him.

"You are such a weirdo," Tim said.

"Not the word I was thinking of," Jason said.

"I would prefer something intellectually stimulating," Damian said.

"Not another documentary!" Tim exclaimed. "The last one was so boring."

"It was very insightful," Damian replied.

"I think we should do sci fi," Tim said.

"That is not intellectual," Damian argued. "It has 'fiction' right in the name."

"You got to pick last time, so I think it's my turn," Tim said.

"I got closest to dying," Dick said.

"Yeah, you were faking it. I actually died," Jason argued.

"Oh my God, Todd, when will you get over that? That was years ago." Damian glared at the other man.

"I'm still waiting on the perks it gets me."

"I don't think dying gets you perks. That's why no one wants to die," Tim said thoughtfully.

"Look, we can argue about what movie to watch until the sun comes up, or we can just agree on something," Dick said in a reasonable voice.

"Agree on what you choose, you mean," Damian said.

"Maybe," Dick said with a smile.

Alfred came into the room. "Have you decided yet, young sirs?"

"Drake is being impossible."

"Jason's playing the 'I died that one time' card."

"I think it should be my turn to pick."

Alfred moved to the movie cabinet and pulled out a boxed set of DVDs. "How about this? It's not a movie, but a TV show."

"Firefly? It says it's a space western, so you'll be happy, Jason," Tim said, looking at the back of the box.

"Any humor?" Dick asked hopefully.

"He means is there any romance, the sap," Jason interjected.

Tim had already turned to his laptop for more information. "This says there is both romance and humor."

"So everyone gets what they want except me," Damian pouted.

"They speak Chinese sometimes," Tim offered.

Damian considered it and then nodded. "I can translate for the rest of you."

Tim opened his mouth to remind Damian that he was fluent in both Mandarin and Cantonese, but changed his mind and said, "Sure, sounds good."

Alfred waited to be sure no last minute objections were going to be voiced and then put the first disc in. "The pizza is almost ready," he informed them and then left to check on the food.

He returned just as the trailers had finished. Tim had insisted on watching them. "We never have time to watch movies, so seeing the trailers is the next best thing," he pointed out.

Alfred set the meat lovers pizza on the coffee table closest to Dick and Jason, and the half veggie/half cheese closer to the younger two boys. Jason immediately claimed three slices of pizza. "Hey, you'd better share!" Dick insisted. "I'm not getting stuck with the weird vegetable pizza."

"The vegetarian diet is healthier and more kind to animals," Damian said in the voice of someone who knows his argument will go unheeded but still feels the need to say it anyway.

"I am sure I can make another pizza if you are still hungry," Alfred said. "And there is popcorn coming, too."

"Just start the episode," Jason said, his mouth full of pizza.

When the Reavers appeared onscreen, Damian commented, "The next time I think about commenting on your appearance, Todd, I will remember that in comparison to these creatures, you are not hideous."

"You're just jealous that the girls all swoon over me and they don't look twice at you," Jason retorted.

"They'd better not!" Dick said. "Damian, you are way too young for a girlfriend."

Damian snorted. "As if I have time for trivialities such a romantic ventures."

"Which is what someone would say if they couldn't get a girlfriend," Tim said.

"Drake, I will-"

"Enough! Let's just watch the show, okay?" Dick said.

"Yeah, rewind that last bit. You guys were talking too loud," Jason said.

As the episodes continued, the pizza (and later the popcorn) were eaten, and the conversation died away. Bruce came in and settled in a chair to watch with them. They found themselves drifting off. Alfred came in to check on them and found all of them asleep. He turned off the TV and rearranged the blankets. He gathered up the trash and paused at the door to look at his sleeping charges. Alfred had very nearly lost them. But here they were, safe at home. "Good night," he whispered, and turned off the light.

* * *

A/N And that's the end! I hope you liked it.

One of the guest reviewers was right about the Joker giving the antidote to the son that Batman chose to die. All of the boys received a dose of the poison, and Dick did receive the antidote (that was mixed with the drug to make him appear dead). If Bruce had buried Dick before the drug wore off, then Dick would have been buried alive. Joker was planning on the Batfamily not being able to synthesize more of the antidote in time to save the other three. And even if everyone survived, Joker thought this would drive a wedge between the members of the family. If he didn't kill them, he wanted to destroy their relationships. I couldn't kill any of the characters, though. I'm a sucker for a happy ending.

I wanted the Batfam to beat the Joker up, but then I realized that Joker likes that kind of thing. He likes the verbal sparring and the physical fights. The best way to show Joker that he didn't win was to show that they were alive, and still a family. That's my thought, anyway.

If you enjoyed this, you can check out my other DC stories on my profile.


End file.
